Audiophiles of Remnant
by thehemingwaydilemma
Summary: Music/Rock Scene AU. Ruby and the Gang are among countless in the vast metropolis, young adults making their way in life, all with a love for music. As the stage is set and the musicians meet, will anything come of their interactions? Or will different dreams and the call for college/employment win out against record labels and arenas? Rated M for possible sexuality/language.
1. This City In Limbo

This City in Limbo

Late winter air still hung around the downtown area, the wind too lazy to send it rushing through the city. As with everything else, the weather reflected the world's – or at least this corner of the world's – decision to remain still, to cease to move, to roll over and refuse to budge despite any signs of urgency. And after all, it seemed almost natural; this town faced subzero temperatures this season, and it was almost a necessity to bundle up, sleep later than normal, and revel in the bliss of trying to find warmth.

It was almost therapeutic.

But regardless of the town's desires, certain people still had to zip around, creating a bustle reminiscent of blood sloshing through veins and arteries, sending life to the corners of a beast deep in slumber.

One of these vessels thrived off that.

Snow crunched beneath the young man's boots as he strode confidently through pavement glazed with ice and snow, breath fogging with everyone third step as he made his way through the nearly empty sidewalks towards the hardly used warehouse. If this had been any other day, he could have easily zipped there in half the time it takes to walk, but he preferred not to rely too heavily on his hybrid bicycle. After all, today was Friday – perfect, euphoric, empty-scheduled Friday – and he liked to take this time to see the world in a more relaxed, even pace.

The familiar Shi-Nee Toothpaste logo, currently neglected enough to read as "SiN Oops", now came into focus at this early hour of the morning. Lie Ren, the only current occupant, user, and unofficial owner of the long-since-foreclosed establishment, chuckled for the umpteenth time at the slightly religious joke spelt out by the only letters not broken, hanging by a thread, or faded as to match the charcoal grey of the building's exterior. Stepping quickly up the stairs, boots tapping quickly as he danced his way over worn-down ice and rubble, Ren nodded a curt greeting to the weather worn statue of Blanc Schnee, the man who ran this place's mother company years back; apparently, military weapons and prescription drugs sold better that mint-flavored dentistry gel, and the Shi-Nee division was closed down, meaning the warehouse was now free to crumble away on its own accord.

Not if Ren could help it, however. He had needed a place outside his crowded apartment to work on his projects, house supplies and materials, and get away from lifelong friend and across the hall neighbor, Nora Valkyrie. While he thought the girl was amazing and one of the few friends he still kept in contact with over the years, the quiet artist _did_ need a place to himself to unwind, think clearly, and – more importantly – get his work done. That honor would normally go to his apartment, but Nora was a notoriously loud neighbor, and skilled enough at lock picking to surprise Ren by plopping unexpectedly on his barstool, happy smile and warm eyes practically begging for one of his renowned meals.

Ren drifted from his thoughts of his hyperactive friend and occasional collaborator onto the next task, fumbling through his set of keys for the one to the door. Being nearly 2am, that involved holding certain keys up to the light provided by an overhead street lamp at the block's edge, feeling for his color coded key covers, and general meticulous searching that finally ended after a good minute. Jamming the key in the lock and shoving after a good turn, the door swung open just enough for the lean boy to get inside before the cold pre-morning air got in after him. One great thing about this place was the insulation was at such a high quality that even without generators or electrical heating, which had long since been shut down by the city, the warehouse was almost always at a comfortable temperature

Sighing contentedly, Ren reached over and flipped the panel on the wall. Industrial lights flared overhead, causing the boy to squint his eyes before they adjusted to the harsh glare. Bathed in yellow light, stretching on for a good several yards, was Ren's studio.

Shrugging off his warm wool bridge coat and hanging it on a makeshift coatrack, Ren strode in comfortably, stretching his arms and scanning his retreat from the outside world. It wasn't the neatest place half the time, but he put up with that in favor of the relaxing atmosphere it gave off. He made his way towards the racks of art supplies, scanning his eyes across the many sets of paint, brushes, pencils, canvas, and paper. Opposite the more traditional mediums, Ren's abnormally violet eyes wandered over sheets of metal, odds and ends, blocks of wood in varying sizes, and countless other materials he used for any sculpture he felt like making. He had managed to grab two of the industrial racks before the garbage men took them all away; it had done wonders for his need to properly organize his tools.

He passed by, deciding to walk around a bit more before properly starting anything. A bit further in, towards the back end, his studio housed a lot of works he had made but hadn't gotten around to selling. While commissions hardly came in and many of his pieces didn't make it out of any art galleries, Ren wasn't discouraged; he always managed to get by, and if anything he was a bit fond of his pieces. Slowly drifting between stands holding paintings or sculptures towering next to him, Ren took in what his limited free time had allowed him to create. A painting he had done of the sun dipping into the ocean; a melted glass piece, eerie in its faded green glory, resembling waves crashing in on itself; a cubist interpretation of a vase of lilacs done in ink; and so on.

After a few moments, Ren found himself at the place where everything came into action: the workroom. An easel, a welding station, and a drafting desk stood juxtaposed to each other, with matching chairs on wheels. Just being here set the boy's mind whirling with artistic juice; his hands itched to do something, needed to let something come out and bring life into this empty building. Pulling up a chair, Ren sat down at one of the tables, tapping a pencil he had left there a few days ago.

Nothing. Nothing was coming to him. It didn't feel right to Ren, something needed to come out but how it would come to fruition was beyond him. The table wasn't doing it, the easel wasn't doing it, none of his tools were doing it…

Finally, his eyes alighted on another corner of the room – one he often resorted to in order to refresh his thoughts or tap out miscellaneous ideas, or mostly just to have fun. _Perfect,_ he mused to himself, a smile starting to spread on his face.

Ren had been pushed to take lessons as kid and, thanks to the drive of his parents, was proficient in a variety of musical instruments. As such, he often kept a few in his studio, as some thoughts that he originally thought might come out visual translated better as chords and lyrics. Stepping onto the large square of carpeting he kept his varying instruments on, Ren made his way past the Casio keyboard, ukulele, drum machine, and a battered six-string before alighting on his personal favorite – a large, black bass guitar, with a soft green border and an extra pickup.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the bass's strap on his shoulders, he plucked a few notes; the rich pulses reverberated through the warehouse. He had gone through the trouble of soundproofing this place the year he found it, so he needn't worry about waking anyone in the area.

Striding to the amp and adjusting a setting or two, Ren took a sharp breath, laced with excitement and sleep-deprived ecstasy. Glancing only halfheartedly glancing at the music stand containing sheet music to Muse's "Hysteria", the oriental boy warmed up his fingers with the fast paced prog-rock masterpiece, nodding his head to the tune. Life, stress, and his insomnia washed away, and he existed only with the bass-line thrumming in his chest and pulsing off the floor.

The words came next, rolling off his tongue as his vastly ranged voice clicked into falsetto mode. Verse to chorus and back again, he let words tumble out as they mixed with note, tone, and emotion into a brewing storm of passion, held back only by his reserved nature.

"'cause I want it now,  
I want it now.  
Give me your heart and your soul  
And I'm not breaking down,  
I'm breaking out  
Last chance to lose control!"

And with that, he launched into the bridge, fingers flying across frets, up and down the neck his hand moved, before changing direction completely and hoisting up the guitar, already plugged in a tuned to a T. Picking up where the bass left off, the low rapid-fire beats shifted into shrill, energized notes that blazed under the thinner strings. This was the solo that took him longer to learn, longer to perfect; the whirling music overpowered everything else in the warehouse.

Before he knew it, it was done; the song was over, the guitar lying dormant under his tingling fingertips (years of practice made for pain-tolerant callouses), and no more words were resting on the tip of his tongue. He was panting, the exertion getting to him at last. Collapsing on the battered couch at the edge of the rug, Ren rested his head back on the cushions, taking deep breaths.

But he was smiling. He was happy, he was energized, and before he went back to that apartment to get his tight 12 hours, he was going to get back out there and do something. Ren leapt up from his seat, battered guitar forgotten for the moment as he instead grabbed for brush and watercolors, a new form of expression finally ready to come to life.

As it has always been seen in the world, we are not alone in our pursuits. The city was large, and one oriental boy was not, and could not, be the only soul stirring at such an early hour.

He was one among many. Movers, dockers, parents of young children – even without these factors, the equation contained many surprising subjects who moved about and lived their life, started their day or ended the previous one at this dark and empty silence of night. Faded orange streetlights lurked just out of the darkness, interrupted only occasionally by shadows flirting about, entering and exiting with a few quick steps.

And yet of all the other souls still awake, it would seem odd that two of these sleepless souls would hold some connection.

While one thrived and swelled in joy of faded light and peaceful solitude, the other was one in a sea of chaos and bright, piercing light. A happy dark versus an agitated bright, a veteran to less opposite a castoff of prosperity. Yin to Yang, so to speak.

The airport, located just near the downtown area, was crowded even in this ungodly hour. The empty florescent lights and monotone announcements of rescheduled flights and closed gateways and lost possessions not worth the trek mumbled over the clacking of footsteps on linoleum and the sea of voices. Anyone and everyone, from all lengths of the world, dashed to and fro, running or walking, hurrying or lollygagging from floor to floor. Heavy coats and heavier luggage milled about, a fast-paced circulatory process compared to the rest of the city's sleep, like blood flow in a paralyzed limb.

One cog in this machine would have none of it.

Standing at the center of an escalator making it's descent, the girl stared in muted awe at the enormous room around her. She had been in airports before, more often than not actually, but never alone, and never at this late into the night (or this early in the morning; she had lost track after the second time change). It was unnerving, standing there without a familiar face to help her through this unfamiliar city. She exhaled softly, adjusting the straps of her purse and tightening the hold on her pristine suitcase, dusting the golden "Louis TaVon" logo out of habit. She felt vulnerable all by herself, and in such a well-brushed coat and sundress too; still, she carried herself with poise, as it was driven into her since she was little.

Finally stepping off the moving stairs, she walked over to the baggage claim, waiting on her final piece of baggage to roll down. She was willing to have her good suitcase full of clothes be banged around in the overhead compartment, but had specifically needed this to be kept in cargo with special packaging.

An abrupt jangle from her left coat pocket – "Beethoven's 5th", almost ruined for her by the ringtone's tinny sound – pulled her out of her waiting, and, relieved at the caller ID, slid her finger across the screen before answering the call.

"Yes, Mother."

"Oh, thank God you made it there safely, how were the flights? I know it's late there, did you sleep alright?"

"I would have slept fine, if not for the cramped conditions and overall dreadful noises some people are capable of making – and at that hour of night, Mother. You'd think they'd learn to get their sleep like any sane person."

"I'm sorry honey, but this was part of your Father's idea, he wanted you to experience –"

"Can we not talk about him?"

The voice on the other end sighed, almost expecting this reaction. "I know, I know he's a sensitive subject at the moment; just… please stay positive about this, please? This may not be ideal for you, but everything is going to go great, you'll see."

"Humph."

"Oh, sweetie."

"I should probably go, I see her coming down the baggage claim. And I need to head to the flat to sleep, I feel the jetlag now." And with that, she hung up her cell.

It wasn't a complete lie; she DID see the sleek black case poking up from the slick metal conveyer belt. And she did want to go home and sleep, but as with all other flights, she didn't feel jet lag as severely as others. She merely didn't want to talk to her mother, and she had more important things to worry about.

A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in was released as the familiar black case rolled into view, and the girl grabbed it by the handle. She gave a curt smile to the Stradivarius, having practiced on the beautiful violin for years. Her mood darkened as she remembered the practice schedule her father had outlined for her and tucked into her purse; finding the crisp paper as she paid for her "dinner" had almost ruined the mood, and she hastily shoved it in her pocket.

_Of course I'll practice, he doesn't have to shove it down my throat every chance he gets._

One thing was for certain, the walk to the outside of the airport was certainly more cumbersome with her bulky suitcase, heavy purse, and now the violin case to contend with. She wished Wells had accompanied her to help with the load, but Daddy had, as usual, banned any help and encouraged his daughter to "strike it on her own". So much for supportive parenting, the girl thought bitterly to herself as she walked through the sliding doors.

She hadn't anticipated the cold, and drew in her breath sharply as the icy needles of wind stabbed at her exposed legs. _Damn sundress,_ she sneered to herself, drawing the coat around her tighter. _I bet the cabs won't have heating either._ Still complaining to herself, the ill-prepared lady stalked over to the sidewalks edge, waving a hand to hopefully draw a cab over. With the amount of people swarming the airport's curbside, any quick departure seemed unlikely. _Come on, you stupid yellow cars…_

Finally, one rolled up next to her, window rolling down. Weiss leaned in, meeting eyes with a grizzled man in a beat up bomber jacket and beret. "Hello, yes? I need a ride to Ellis and Heath Lofts? It's on the corner of –"

"I been there, hop in," The man had casually put out his cigar, waved a finger to motion for her to hop in.

"Actually, sir, could you please open the back? I need to put my suitcase back there for the ride over. It's rather large, you see."

"The hatch's busted, you're gonna need to keep your stuff in the seat with you."

Groaning not for the last time, the girl pulled open the door, scooting in and preparing for more cramped conditions.

* * *

Finally, the cab pulled up to the towering apartment building, which looked much nicer on the website. Paying her fair and passive aggressively staring at the stronger cabbie as she struggled with her luggage (he remained oblivious to her stares, instead counting the freshly minted bills before pulling away). She eventually checked in, found the elevator, and found herself outside her new home the fifth floor. Using her recently acquired key and fumbling to get her caravan of possessions inside. _At least Daddy was willing to hire a mover to get everything else here before me,_ she compromised to herself, taking in the stacks of cardboard boxes that crowded her living room.

Setting her bags down and propping her Stradivarius case against the corner wall, the girl walked slowly to her new bedroom, empty if not for the queen bed the previous owner had been so willing to leave behind. She stretched her aching joints, taking in the white walls interrupted only by a wooded closet door and the desk she had had delivered alongside her other belongings. She eased herself down onto the mattress, sitting poised at the edge.

After an exhausted sigh, Weiss Schnee let the pent up tears spill down her cheeks, sobs wracking her thin frame well into the night.


	2. The Work Load

The Work Load

It was 10:00 am in the Dead Bear Auto Shop, and the company phone was at its wits end.

The poor thing had a lot of competition when it came to grabbing anyone's attention. It's clanging chimes weren't exactly capable of winning out against grinding of metal on metal, saws cutting through pipe, and the whining drone of fine machinery, let alone the overarching metal and hip-hop that too turns pouring out through the speaker system. Even the testing of engines and occasional car lift operating did a good enough job at keeping the ringing a secret.

It might have stayed that way if not for the sharp eyed employee who finally took off her welding mask and caught a glimpse of the ancient corded beast jangling around on its receiver. That what the phone was reduced to, shaking violently in order to be seen properly, sound no longer a worthy method of attention grabbing.

"Hey, Dead Bear Auto Shop, Yang on the line, whatcha need?"

"Hey, it's me sis."

"Ruby?" Yang managed to perk up and get worried as soon as she heard her sister's voice. While it was never a contest between hearing her sister or a customer, the tone in the young girl's voice reeked of apprehension; the fact she called the work number and not Yang's cell also took a turn for the discomforting. "Is everything okay?"

"Well… yes, and no."

Lilac eyes narrowed, slightly frustrated. "Could you be more specific? As in, are you in trouble or are you just not feeling alright?"

Ruby's sigh came across as static in the speaker, like breath on a mic. "The latter. Sorry to scare you."

Yang's time to sigh. "No worries, kiddo, just tell me what's up."

"Well, I'm about a block away from my work right now, and I feel really panicky and I'm thinking of just heading home. I mean yes, I can't wait to start working here, but what if I don't make my boss happy, or if my first day has so many customers I flip out and forget all the training they gave me. I don't know if I'm ready for this, maybe the job wasn't such a good idea…"

Yang sighed. "Ruby, it's your first day on the job, everyone's nervous at first. Bosses can be like that, you just need to put up with them, take a deep breath, and move on."

"Okay… but it's still really different…"

"Like I said, it's your first day here. Of course it's going to be new, and fast paced, and different, but just do the job, ask for help, and know that these people are here to help you get to a fresh start. Plus, we've known Mr. Port since we were kids, he's always been nice to us and will definitely be there to give you a hand."

Another sigh from Ruby. "You're right. Okay, I'm gonna go, thanks for that. Ugh, but I'm still not comfortable." Yang rolled her eyes, but shifted gears and remembered how to bring Ruby back to her default cheery state.

"Well, as I seem to remember, you get a fifty percent off employee discount on any baked goods they have in stock."

"Whoa, you're right!" Ruby squealed before hanging up. Yang smirked, content her dear little sister was back on track, or at least diverted from fear by her love of cookies. _Seriously though, working in a bakery was going to be great for Ruby,_ Yang ruminated to herself as she returned to her own duties.

Working as a mechanic had been the best thing that had happened to Yang, except for meeting her sister (in reality half-sister) when they were eleven and nine respectively. Yang had always like the grease and grime of the job, the hands on atmosphere, the busy shifts and bustle of people doing things; heck, the biggest perk was pushing aside some old relative or rude neighbor and solving their engine trouble after they insisted fervently that they didn't need a "girl's" help. The emasculated shame that spilled down their face when the engine roared to life after on try by Yang was enough to make her day.

Yang whistled an old favorite, Beastie Boys' "No Sleep till Brooklyn", to herself as she got back to her work desk, rummaging in the metal slide-out drawers for the breaker bar she kept away from the others. They may have their power tools, but I've had this piece of shit "borrowed" more than enough to just leave it out in the open again, Yang brewed to herself, but not angrily. She loved the guys she worked with, they were great; it was just the kind of work place where a lot of people were comfortable with each other enough to borrow something out of the blue and forget to return it.

Yang's desk held more than just tools and cables. She kept a few other keepsakes on the table top: a lava lamp from a few years back, two speakers for music, her work-drumsticks, and a framed photo of Ruby and her at Ruby's high school graduation. She was proud of her sister, who was doing what she wanted in life and moving forward the way she should be. Yang herself had dropped out of high school in junior year to work at the shop, which was a decision she made herself; she already had the job lined up for her, they loved her, and she had connection in other auto shops in the area in case something happened with this one (unlikely, since she was the highest rated employee). Ruby had, despite her proclaimed dream to go to college and find out what she wanted to do, almost dropped out to be like her big sister.

Big mistake, as Yang seemed to recall. She had to sit Ruby down and explain to the spunky sophomore the situation. "But it's okay if you're doing it! You have a job and are looking for apartments, I should be set too!"

Yang had smiled, admiring the stubbornness in the brunette's will despite the importance of the situation. "What about going to college? Didn't you always want that?"

"You aren't going to college; I can just get a job and be like you."

Yang crossed her arms, still smirking. "Really? What job?"

That had caught her off guard for a second. Just enough for Yang to close in. "What field? Where? Who are you going to talk to? How do you put together a resume? Are you planning on calling in or visiting in person? Where are your strengths?"

Just as planned, Ruby wasn't prepared for her sister's barrage of questions. Seeing her discouragement, the blonde put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder.

"Listed Rubes, I know you want to be like me. I'm honored, and having a little sister look up to you like that is amazing. But this isn't you. You've got a dream, you want to explore, and you want to discover what you love. And to be honest, doing what I'm doing won't get you there. You need to stand firm in what you want, make your own decisions, be your own person. And," here Yang slung an arm around her petite sister's shoulders and bringing her into a bear hug, "I'm gonna make sure you get there in the best condition ever. Okay?"

And Yang was right; Ruby had a long way to go and Yang's path for Yang, not her sister. Ruby committed to school, graduated with honors, and was enrolled at the local community college to get her G.E. before she transferred to an as-of-yet undecided university. She had kept up her hobbies of guitar playing, reading, and video games ("You need something constructive to keep your head up," Yang said, tapping a beat on her drum set as an example), been on the job hunt for part time work to pay for college, and even held back on dating ("Trust me, you gotta prioritize your time and energies so you pass your classes and don't do something you'll regret. Wait to mature a little yourself and meet someone who respects you, and then bring them my way for inspection.").

Yang had long since found her breaker bar and moved onto replacing the broken wheel of a blue sedan, but she still kept her thoughts on her sister. She loved the girl, always had, and really hoped she was doing well at her new job. College was starting in two weeks, and she needed to get into a proper schedule so she wouldn't flip out too soon into the game. Whatever Ruby's decision, Yang was there to support. Her dad, who took Ruby in when her mother couldn't, was also very supportive of his daughter and step daughter; even though both his daughters had moved out and were roommates together, he still called when he could and provided advice and help when they asked.

It had taken while, but Yang was in a happy place. She had a great job, a better family dynamic, less craziness in her routine, and thanks to all this was finding more and more time for herself.

"Oh! Oh! Holy crap, crank that Morty, you _know_ this is my jam!" she cried, pointing at the handlebar bearting car junkie. He shrugged, and adjusted the volume so that the blared all the louder. Yang, blonde locks tumbling and bobbing as she grooved, chanted along with the music while she pried at the rusted bolts.

"Police think they can see me lean  
I'm tint so it ain't easy to be seen  
When you see me ride by they can see the glean  
And my shine on the deck and the TV screen  
Ride with a new chick, she like hold up  
Next to the playstation controller is a full clip and – Hey!"

The music stopped mid-sentence, letting Yang back into the world of reality. Two mechanics, who she recognized as Phil and Ted, were standing in front of her, arms crossed and disapproving looks on her face. Yang was about to retort about how rude it was to interrupt someone mid-rap solo, but a raised hand and tilt of the head from Ted interrupted the fiery blonde.

"Look Xiao Long, you know we think you're beast. You got more cred here than anyone else, you a great grease monkey, and you sure as hell can lay down a beat. But," he held up his hands apologetically, "for the sake of me and my fellas, work on that rappin' outside of work, it's too painful to have to endure."

Yang gritted her teeth, frustrated not at her coworkers (they wonderful swarthy old gents, bless their middle aged souls) but more at the truth. "I knoooooow guys, I just get in the mood and I go with it. Geez, let a lady do as she pleases, you old coots."

Phil shrugged. "Ain't a problem, we juss love ourselves some good rap is all, don't want ya fuddling it up while we be tryn' ta listen."

The blondie fluttered her lashes and tossed her man, resorting to her playful mode to win them over. "Aww, you don't think I'm good?" she cooed, pouting sarcastically and cocking her head with her flirtatious violet eyes closing in for an apology.

"It's terrible."

"Well, that didn't work," she huffed as she returned to normal. "Fine, just go back to playing it; I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Ya know we love ya, Yang," Ted called, both men already lumbering off.

"You too, fellas." Miffed yet still resigned that her rapping was sub-par, Yang Xiao Long decided to work up a sweat with her own job, letting Chamillionaire handle his own song as she pulled crooked lug bolts from the damaged wheel.

With this newfound time on her hands, Yang decided there were a few things she would need to take care of: her rapping abilities for one thing, but more importantly she had another issue that had been pressing on her mind for quite some time.

_I hope he understands…._

Ruby hung up the phone, groaning in pent up frustration as she slid down the back of the wall, collapsing in emotional and physical exhaustion. She didn't feel ready for this job, she didn't want to have to deal with the endless customers, and she was already tired after being up with the jitters for a good three hours.

I just want to go home, she thought miserably, already counting the minutes until she got her one-hour lunch break.

As nervous as she was, Ruby knew her sister was right; there was nothing to be afraid of. She was going to do well, the first day of anything was sure to be nerve-wracking, even if you've been in that same building at least once a week for the last six years. She had loved coming to Port & Company's Bakery and Café ever since she had moved with her small family to this city; the warm smell of cookies and fresh bread mixed with the homily decorated interior reminded her of her grandmother's house, and sipping hot cocoa with Yang and her step-father around the holiday season or picking up pastry for birthdays was one of her favorite experiences.

That still didn't quell the nervousness; now she'd be working here three days a week and balancing that with homework too. Plus, a lot of people said that once you start working in a restraint you being to dislike the food you spend your time working with; over exposure to too much of a good thing, as her father mentioned. As much as she'd never grow tired of the checkerboard chocolate chip Porterdoodles or the strawberry muffins with cream cheese frosting, she was crossing her fingers that she wouldn't fall pray to that trend.

"Um, hey, hi, are you gonna go in?"

Ruby jumped, turning to meet eyes with someone behind her. She had forgotten she was standing in front of the door for the last few minutes, and realized she was blocking potential customer's entry.

"Oh! Oh I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean to stand here for so long, I'm just, ah, a little nervous is all…"

The boy shrugged, smiling nervously. "It's fine, you seemed lost, or something, which happens to me all the time, so I didn't want to break your train of thought too soon."

Ruby adjusted her red polo, hoping the fancy metal name tag was showing. "Oh, I'm not lost. I actually work here now; first day, I was kind of nervous," she explained, grinning cheekily as her face warmed with the familiar uneasy blush.

"Oh! Neat. First day, yeah, those are always rough."

"Hehe, yeah," Ruby concurred, nodding mostly to herself.

"What position?"

"Cashier.'

"Oh. Okay."

Neither one spoke, having accepted the awkward pause's entry and letting it to blossom into a beautiful and painful rose of social stagnancy. Ruby looked the boy over, discreetly as not to make him more uncomfortable. He was about a head or two taller than her, messy blonde hair parted off center and falling just above his brow. His eyes were one shade darker than the lean navy blue hoodie he wore, complimented by faded jeans and a pair of white and orange skate shoes. He also wore a black backpack, which Ruby noticed had a few buttons from a band or two she liked. She returned to meet his gaze just as he spoke.

"Um, are we gonna go in yet?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I kinda spaced out for a minute!" Ruby politely pulled the door open and, once the boy was inside, hurried in after him. She had made it their fifteen minutes early, but still was cursing herself for taking so long entering.

She waved to Karrie, the head cashier, who seemed to be the only employee present. In fact, the place wasn't as packed as it was in the mornings, with only a few regulars who stayed at the café sitting in the booths. A little more at ease,

"I need to go in back and punch in, you can get your order from Karrie if you want."

"Actaully," Jaune replied, clearing his throat, "could I have you take it? I do better with people I'm more familiar with, and if it's your first day you could use the practice with customers."

Ruby brightened up. "That's actually a good idea! And I know _you_ a little, so it won't be too hard on me to take your order! Just don't go too crazy, okay?" she said, taking on a mock accusatory tone and pointing a finger at him for the last sentence.

The boy laughed. "Customer is always right, as you'll figure out soon enough. But yeah, I won't order much, I'm not super hungry."

"Alright," Ruby replied, dashing back to the backroom to get ready for the job. Slipping the plastic punch card from her purse, she found her position in the box, punched in, and then headed to the apron rack to get suited up. Tying the light green apron on and slipping on the red visor as part of her uniform, Ruby fixed her name tag so it would be visible to customers, and strode out, walking up to the counter. Seeing her, the boy from outside hopped up from a chair he was sitting in and came to the front counter.

"Hello, welcome to Port's Bakery, how may I help you?" Ruby said, smiling happily.

The boy smiled back, chuckling a little. "Hi, I'll have a medium latte and one of your blueberry bran muffins."

"Anything else, sir?" she said, her default perkiness easing back to the surface.

He waved a hand in decline. "No, I'm good, I'm set."

"Okay, that's going to come to 4.85." The boy reached him, pulling a leather wallet out and fishing a five dollar bill out. "And would you like that for here or to go?"

"For go, I need to get to Northbrooks for regestration." Ruby's ears perked at the name of one of the community colleges in the area: the same one she attended.

"You go to Northbrooks too?" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, but only part time. What year are you?"

"Freshman! I'm going to be going full time, maybe we'll see each other around! Do you have a major declared."

"Yeah! I still have to do a lot of GE, so we'll see how that goes. And no, I don't have a major at the moment, I'm still deciding on that part."

"Same here. I want to explore all my options first, you know? I do a lot of – oh! Your order's ready, here you go!"

She handed the paper bag and warm cup to her first customer, who took it graciously. "Thanks, it was nice meeting you… Ruby?"

"Yup!" she confirmed, tapping her name tag for effect before holding out her hand. "Ruby Rose. And you are?"

"Jaune. Jaune Arc. It was really nice meeting you Ruby." They shook hands before he had to head out and drive to the college, both agreeing to meet at the fountain on their first day of classes. Ruby smiled to herself as the door closed, the bell just above it jangling as it shut.

_Well, that was a great first experience,_ she thought cheerfully to herself. And just like that, the door was open again, and an elderly couple hobbled in. Anxiety forgotten, Ruby smiled again as she recognized Mr. and Mrs. Draper.

"Hello, how can I help you?" And on continued her first day at work.

* * *

**Author's Note/Update for Readers.:**

**Consider this a side project that will eventually grow into a main story of mine, one I will work on while I am not progressing "FlipFlop AU" or working on other forthcoming projects (yes, yes, more fics from thehemingwaydilemma in the near future) and as such, updates will not come frequently. I expect FlipFlop to get a new chapter once a week until mid-August, when I start college again; "Audiophiles" will likely air at most once a month, most because I aim for much longer chapters and a hell of a lot of stuff to happen.**

**Not wanting to give away any juicy details, I will tell you this: FlipFlop has a long ways to go, as does this new Audiophiles piece. I don't think I'll delve too much into volume 2 of RWBY in either one, but that isn't a promise ;) and in addition to these two main fics, a shorter lived piece in the same vein of "Jaune Arc vs. the World" and a one-shot or two are in the works, which you will hopefully see around early August depending on workflow.**

**All I can say in the meantime is thanks. Thank you for sticking by and reading me work, putting up with gaps in my updating, and coming back with more and more positive feedback. It means the world to me, and every little bit is a donation to the encouragement jar that keeps on filling up. **

**See you all soon, **

**thehemingwaydilemma**


	3. Respite from the Quiet

Respite From the Quiet

"I like your ears!"

She turned to the voice down at her knees, smiling at the small girl grinning happily up at her. She patted the top of her head in confirmation, ruffling the black cat "ears" that blended in with her dark tresses.

"Why thank you. I'm glad you like them, I worked really hard to make this hat." Further away in the store, Blake made eye contact with a worn-looking mother who, upon seeing her daughter was engaged with an employee and not wreaking havoc in the store, mouthed a thank you as her shoulders were relieved of the tension we was obviously pent up with.

Back in the current conversation, the little girl's eyes widened, mouth curving into a little "o" of astonishment. "You _made_ those?" she breathed, obviously astounded with the idea of such a work of majesty being the creation of the young woman stocking shelves at Farms and Regal Book Company.

Blake just smiled warmly, nodding towards the little girl's mother, who was making her way towards the two as best she could; the children's section was rather busy today, as they were most chilly midafternoons. "Yes I did. In fact, it isn't as hard as it looks. If I remember correctly, we should sell the same book I used to make this with right here in the store; would you like me to show you to our crafts section?"

The girl nodded, clutching her giraffe plushy a little tighter as she turned around to wave exuberantly at her mother, who now scooped her daughter up in her arms and gestured for Blake to lead the way. After a few minutes of navigating through the swarm of tots dashing between aisles and pulling at books as if they were toys (_The nerve of those kids, there's no way I ever treated books with such disrespect,_ Blake thought to herself) the trio made it to the crafting section. Blake filed through books on painting with accuracy and how-to-draw guides and photography tutorials until she found the same book which her aunt had given to her a year ago – Knitting and Crotchet for the Fashion-Forward: Projects to Stand Out and Cultivate Your Own Unique Style.

"Whoa," the girl murmured, holding the thick book in her hands, almost as if she were holding a solid bar of gold or a genii's lamp. Blake savored this moment; it wasn't often you saw a child realize what magic books held, what vastly important symbols they were. The black-haired book worm snapped out of her reverie as the girl looked up at her, awe still evident on her face. "And this is gonna make me a kitty-cat hat just like yours?"

Blake laughed, a peal of amusement and affection. "Well, if you follow the instructions correctly and take your time; the cat-ear beanie isn't one of the easier patterns to learn," she explained this a she opened the book to the back middle, pointing to the three page tutorial. She slipped in a little bookmark provided by the store, just so the mother didn't have to have stress more than she probably already was. "It might be best if you got help from someone more experienced, who can help you."

"Like Gamma!" the girl squeaked, excited at this new prospect as she turned to her mother. "Remember Gamma crotched me that butterfly sweater? She could help me with the kitty hat!"

"It's _crotchet,_ Abbie dear. And I'm sure Grandma Ann would love to crotchet the –"

"NO!" Little Abbie vehemently asserted, clutching the book to her chest protectively, stubbornly glaring at her mother. "I wanna make it!"

Like any good parent, this mom knew when to negotiate as opposed to fight with her daughter. "Well, how about we have Granny teach you how to crotchet first, and then we – "

"_I_," Abbie corrected, not having any of this sneaky cooperation business. Blake and the mother exchanged smiles at the girl's determination.

"Okay, and then _you_ can work on making your own kitty hat," she continued, slipping her hand into her daughter's, "and maybe even make a scarf or two along the way. Deal?"

Abbie, brow furrowed, looked at the ground, deep in thought over the proposal at hand. After her deep contemplation, complete with adjusting her potential new book under one arm and stroking her chin thoughtfully, she nodded, tightening her grip on her mother's fingers and following her to the checkout. Blake waved after the two, earning a wide grin with missing teeth from Abbie (who looked like she wanted to wave back but didn't know how to do so while still clutching her new book) and a grateful smile from her mother (who was likely saved from the usual shenanigans of a bored toddler, if her repeatedly mouthed "thanks" and elated demeanor said anything about it.)

Blake sighed, actually a bit relieved the experience was over. As much as she liked people, she preferred the quick exchanges of checkout lines over the more in-depth conversations and ordeal accompanying customer support. Checking her cell phone for time (11:32 am) the girl decided to reclaim her normal duty and relieve fellow bookstore employee (and fellow wearer of animal-themed headgear) Velvet of her duty as cashier for the rest of the shift. Blake started her afternoon classes at three and wanted to go ahead with her typical duties so that she wouldn't have to deal with the constant questions.

Velvet, another one of the employees wearing a beanie until the stores heating cut in, had just finished taking care of an elderly lady's purchase, and, upon noticing Blake, smiled shyly at her friend, giving a small wave as she stepped back. "Ready for your job back?"

"Yes; I don't know how you deal with all those kids all day."

"Oh, they're no problem. I love kids, they're so much easier to deal with than adults and other rude customers."

"So you can't handle adults buying books, but you go out every Saturday night and play for them in bars and stuff?"

Velvet blushed, scooting over as Blake reclaimed her position at the register. "Well, that's different. I mean, we aren't social butterflies per say, but we can deal with people in different scenarios, right? Plus, I have the others on stage with me, so it's not so bad…"

Blake shrugged, seeing Velvet's point. As she remembered from the days when she had recitals every six months, it was sometimes easier to lose yourself in music in front of people than it was to bare the other areas of your soul via conversation.

Velvet tugged awkwardly at her rabbit-eared hat, glancing at her watch as she did. "Well, we got shifts to go to, I'll see you around," she said as she backed away, heading towards the children book sections.

"When 12 o'clock story time rolls around, you'll wish you were behind the counter!"

The girl laughed, her long brown hair waving as she did so. "You kidding? I live for story time!"

Blake smiled, turning her attention to the line. If there _was_ a line; business was slow today, with only a few regulars browsing the shelves at their own leisurely pace. If anything Blake would stand here for a few minutes, customer-less, until the assistant manager called her up to go restock shelves or something pleasantly boring of that nature.

At least she could people watch; as much as being around them was tiring, Blake found people – especially fellow bibliophiles – fascinating. She recognized the slow, content strides as people meandered through the shelves, scanning ever so slowly, lips moving as they mentally read along with title after title.

Finally – _finally_ – someone was brave enough to pull themselves from their bliss and finally take one home. Blake recognized her as she approached – she was a regular who came in often, if only fleetingly to just unwind along the aisles. They never talked outside of the niceties expected of consumer/cashier dynamics, which Blake appreciated.

"Hi there," the girl said, setting three books down on the counter, pushing a strand of red hair back over her ear. She glanced back up at Blake, polite smile quirking her cheeks. "That's a nice hat. Is there an animal theme today? I saw someone with a rabbit one on earlier."

"Oh no, our heating's down, so our manager is letting us wear warmer clothes. The animal hats are a hit with the kids, and we have a lot of youth in here around this time of day, so Velvet – she's the one you saw – and I like to break these out when we can."

"Well, it's a great idea; very cute looking too."

Blake smiled back professionally, running an eye over the redhead in observance. _She doesn't dress half badly_, Blake remarked, feeling drab in her work uniform compared to this… _gorgeous_ girl, to put it mildly. The girl had her hair in a high ponytail as usual, her green inquisitive eyes peeking out from under bangs of a lighter tone of red. With the cold weather and poor heating she had herself warmed in a bronzed leather jacket that was fitted enough to make her sharp and hint nicely at her curvaceous figure, but simple enough to help her avoid looking like she was intimidating or being overt in style and allure. Tying the package together, a friendly smile graced the edges of her lips, which didn't seem to need gloss in order stand out.

Frowning a bit and trying to avoid getting jealous of her, Blake instead directed her attention to the books her customer was buying. All of them caught Blake's eye as she scanned them: _Teaching Music to Beginners, An Intro to Guitar,_ and _1001 Tutoring Techniques for Music Teachers_. Blake glanced up at the girl, who couldn't possibly be older than herself by at least a year.

"You teach guitar?"

"Hmm?" The red head had been glancing around the store and snapped back to Blake.

"All these books. It looks like you're starting to teach or already teach music? Like guitar?"

"Oh yeah!" the redhead enthused, tapping one of the books thoughtfully. "It's something I'm starting up mostly to help me get through college. I've taken a lot of classes and been playing since I was little, so I thought it would be a good additional income alongside my waitressing job."

"Interesting." Punching a few keys, Blake glanced up at her again. "That'll be thirty dollars and sixty one cents."

"Oh, of course." Reaching behind her and retrieving a red and gold checkered wallet, the guitar teacher leafed through cards and bills, fingers picking through carefully. "How about you?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you play anything?" The girl, still looking happy as usual - _How she can do that all the time and not get tired is amazing_ Blake mused to herself – fished out her Eureka Card, which she swiped as the receipt crawled out from its slot. "Guitar, piano, anything like that?"

"Oh." Blake bit her lip; _why do I have to act like this is some secret?_ "I took piano lessons as a kid, and can play cello decently." Both of which were partially true; Blake had actually ranked third in her entire school during her music seminar and had actually been a part of a small symphony piece on the cello and harp, mostly to volunteer at the museum. The piano in her apartment was still occasionally capable of reliving it's melodic past on the few nights Blake managed to get her assignments done on time and wasn't working late.

The red head nodded, insouciant expression almost encouraging Blake to continue her music passion. "Awesome! That sounds like a lot of fun; I'm more skilled on guitar. Piano never was my thing, but I still try my hand at keyboard now and then. You know, for fun."

"Right," Blake remarked, peering behind the girl; she'd usually use the excuse that there were more people waiting to purchase in order to get this girl to move along, but unfortunately the only other customer was already getting taken care of. "So," she gestured to the books, which were all bagged up and ready to go. "Is this all I can help you with?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, that's all." She scooped up her books, politely waving to Blake. "It was nice talking to you, hope to see you soon! Keep on playing!"

"Okay" was all that Blake replied with as the redhead walked off, books hugged tight to her chest. Blake watched as she left the shop, breaking her observation as another customer in his mid-thirties approached the counter, his own books ready to be bought. As Blake scanned the books, accepted the money, pushed the books in their plastic bag back to him, and continued the cycle with the rest of the people that came and went through the store, she kept going back to the redhead.

Blake's conversations with her and the one she had with Velvet had gotten the cogs in Blake' mind turning again. She actually realized she missed that world; the notes gliding off strings, the echoes of music she was creating, knowing she had everyone's attention solely because she could give them something majestic and enrapturing. And even without the attention, she was starting to miss the mere act of playing, from holding the instruments she loved so much to the act of reading the sheet music like a story and anticipating each swell and chord as they came.

Sooner than she might have thought, her shift ended. She stepped out of Farms and Regal, wrapped in her warm pea coat with a scarf tied around her neck. She had about forty five minutes before she had to be at her university; she had enough time for the trolley came for her to go and buy a cup of coffee to lift her spirits and get some energy back in her veins.

However, even the caffeine of the latte now mulling her bloodstream didn't set her mind afire the way her run in at the checkout did. Blake was known for being mellow, calm, and level headed – passionate seemed so alien to her, and yet the ideas of playing again, putting something in this world was starting to have more appeal. She had her plans laid out: continue working part time, graduate college in two years, and from there continue on to graduate school and interning at a psychologists office before starting her career there.

And yet this idea of disregarding stuffy careers, this breaking from the mold to live and breathe in a scene fraught with live shows, unpredictability – it was a clash from everything she was that both frightened and enticed her.

She was going to reenter the world she long since grew out of, but no more recitals; no more playing the notes of men dead and gone, gone are the days of parents hovering over her along the way.

_If I'm going to start again, it's going to be for me._

Sliding her headphones off, Nora let loose a breath she didn't think she had been holding in.

"Well, two more songs in the book!" she exclaimed happily, saving her progress and standing up from her little desk. Mixing equipment and soundboards were strewn messily about, her GranBook Pro's light illuminating the normally dark studio/spare bedroom she was seated in. The synthesizer she had been abusing the past few days, along with her taped-up drum machine, had been idly standing by in favor of her recording equipment and production software.

Nora excitedly played the tracks back through her speaker system: heavy on the base, with an almost aggressive thrumming to it in contrast with light, energetic synthesizer dancing along the top. She had even gone ahead and sampled in a little bit of distorted violin for good measure on one of the songs, hoping to add a "classy" element to it. Nora nodded along with the beat, taking pride in the bits where her near-professional editing and production kicked in as tracks faded or previously static areas were polished crisp.

Still, one track was missing the vocals she wanted to have layered in; it would be perfect to have someone's voice to accompany this song in particular. As a rule, she didn't use her own voice for this kind of thing, only lending her vocals to other people or just doing back up on her own tracks.

She normally didn't write lyrics, anyhow; this one would have to wait to be finished properly. In the meantime, she glanced at the wall clock, realizing it was almost dinner time. She worked the morning shifts at a local pet store, and despite her peppy attitude, the early work schedule combined with her habit of devoting herself to her was starting to throw off her appetite.

A loud rumbling echoed through the room, followed by a sharp pain in her stomach. _Oh, who am I kidding, of course I'm fricking hungry! _Nora thought, hopping up from her seat with a laugh as she flicked off effects pedals and sound boards alike. Stowing her laptop away on her shelf (it was the only equipment she minded getting scuffed or dented) she went out of her studio and journeyed back to the rest of her apartment, grabbing her phone as she went. If her afternoon raid of the fridge told her anything, she was going to have to do take out until she could restock on groceries tomorrow.

Punching in the familiar tune to her favorite pizza place, Nora paced around the kitchen, glancing at the menu stuck to the fridge door with her ABC magnets; they never really did go wrong with their pizzas. "Nice Dynamite Pizza, how can we help you?"

"Hey, I'd like a large pizza with extra cheese, ham, pepperoni, olives and…"

Something caught Nora's eye. She hadn't noticed him before, but Vanilla was sitting on Nora's countertop, tail swishing back and forth as she glanced around the kitchen. Her green eyes alighted on Nora, who sighed as she pieced the situation together.

"Hey, would it be okay if I got some anchovies on the side? Twelve fifty nine total? Alrighty, my address is 473 Harrington Avenue, apartment number 329. Yes, the big tall building. The third floor, left at the elevator. Thank you, bye-bye!" She hung up the phone and made her way toward the cat, resisting the urge to scoop the kitty up in her arms and smother her in affectionate kisses.

_Reminds me of her "owner" across the hall_ Nora thought begrudgingly, gently reaching over and gingerly stroking the cat behind the ears. "Hey Nilla, you being a good kitty? How's our apartment cat doing today, huh? You hungies?"

Despite the fact the residential stray was leaning into her scratching with a content swish of its bushy grey tail, its blue eyes glared up at her as if to say _Stop that, I'm a full grown cat you know._

"Okay, if you want to be like that," Nora replied, ceasing her petting and turning over to her refrigerator. "You thirsty? I got some coffee creamer here if you want. It's not milk, but Grocery Day is in like two days, so if you drop by after Thursday I might hook you up with the good stuff." She crouched down as she poured the pale white creamer into a small dish, raising a finger to her lips. "Don't tell your other cat friends, this stuff don't come cheap ya know."

Vanilla, for the most part, ignored Nora's attempt at conversation and strutted over to the little saucer, lapping up the pseudo-milk contentedly.

"If you hang out here for twenty minutes or so, some anchovies will be coming your way. I'll leave the window open so you can come and go as you please. I think Mr. Taurus isn't doing his sweep of the apartments this night, so you won't have to worry about our landlord finding out about you." Nora plopped on her couch with a sigh, letting the cat do what she pleased while she had access to Nora's apartment.

Nora's head lolled back on the couch. She hated waiting; hated with a burning passion. It was so against everything she was. She needed more action, more movement, none of this sitting and waiting for life to happen. Yes, her job was great, and she was avidly working towards her music career, but she didn't get out as much as she wanted. She had an every-other Friday hang out session with Ren, but sadly this wasn't that Friday; every Tuesday and Wednesday she went to the gym with Pyrrha; occasionally she was invited to a party or two, but outside of those her life was rather monotonous.

She missed high school and running the campus with Ren, playing music for the fun of it; she missed raising hell during summer with her gang of friends and making her parents sigh in frustration; and even if she still remembered her brief stint in college as dull, she missed the crazy nights and coffee dates – even the classes there were better than this.

A soft mew made her crack open her eye. Vanilla was sitting on the edge of the couches arm, peering at her inquisitively. Nora wrinkled her nose at the cat, looking past the feline at the wall clock in hopes of more time passing during her time on the couch.

3:55. Ten more minutes to wait for food. And three more hours until Ren made his way home

"Ugh!" Nora groaned halfheartedly, rolling to sprawl out on the couch. "When is something going to happen?!"

No one wanted to do this. The words he needed to say weren't going to be pretty, and knowing who he needed to say them to; he might not make it out alive

Knowing full well he didn't care how it looked either way, Sun adjusted the placemat on the coffee table. He took a raggedly breath, hoping to calm his frantic nerves to no avail. He shot a look back at his watch – how could only a minute have elapsed? She was going to be here in a few minutes.

Sun sucked in another breath as he heard a knock to the door. He staggered upright (the fact his legs were jelly was a bad sign of just how nervous he was) and, adjusting his dress shirt, made his way to the door. "Coming!" he promised, fumbling as his twitching fingers unlocked the door with a flick and knocked away the chain. Sun took one last breath to steady himself before opening the door.

Of course it had to be her.

"Hi," he said, smiling non-convincingly at the mass of blonde curls in front of him.

"Hey Sun" she replied brightly, her voice out of sync with a soft spoken expression she wore with a note of melancholy. She motioned behind him to the condo he was renting. "Mind if I come in?"

Sun motioned for her to come in, letting his fellow blonde come in. He fought off the temptation to take in Yang's vast array of curves (ones he had grown to know personally over the last year), instead hurrying to the kitchen. "You want anything to drink? You've been in the shop all day, right?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay, Sun, I just wanted to visit for a bit. There's uh," she paused, "something I wanted to talk to you about anyways."

Sun put the glass he was clenching back in the cabinet; he'd be relieved if his curiosity wasn't suddenly peaked. "Oh?" He ran a hand through his hair absently – it was a nervous habit both of them actually shared. "Okay… I actually wanted to tell you something as well."

Yang looked surprised from her place by the couch. "Really? What about?"

"Can we sit down? I, uh, think it's kinda important."

"Good, good," she replied, taking a seat on the worn polyester. "Same goes for me, I hope you're okay with me coming all the way over here."

Sun hopped over the back of the couch, taking his place at the leather armchair that sat adjacent to the couch his girlfriend was sitting in. "Yang, you live like five minutes away, that isn't all the way over here in anyone's book."

She chuckled weakly, glancing down to her right. "I know, just… well, what were you going to say?"

Sun sucked in another breath, not liking the spot he was put on. "Yeah, about that… I don't know, I'm not sure how to start." He cast a glance at her, her lilac eyes meeting his hazel. "What did you want to say to me, I'm curious now."

She shook her head. "You need to go first, I don't want to say anything that's going to ruin what you have to say."

Sun's nervousness ebbed as he shifted to sit while looking his girlfriend in the eyes. "I'm in the same boat, you look torn up over something, and I don't like what I've been wanting to say; it would really suck if what I said was going to make you look any more miserable than how you look right now. Come to think of it," he said, running a thumb across his chin, "you've never looked this vulnerable as you do now, are you sure everything is okay? I can talk to you later –"

_"No."_ Yang took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, that came out a little harsher than I wanted to, I just really need to get this off my chest." She glanced down again, meeting his eyes with a humorous glint. "Given how big both are, it's gonna take a long time."

Sun laughed, leaning back a little. "Whoa there, Xiao Long, don't get too ahead of yourself there, just keep your shirt on a little longer."

She smiled at that; not entirely happy, but it was sincere enough to ease his worry. _She's making jokes; that's a good sign,_ he thought idly to himself. He sighed again, nodding more to himself than to her. "So should I still go first?"

She nodded. "I'm ready."

He pulled in a sharp breath. "Okay, here goes nothing… the thing is, it's been a really good year. One of my favorites for sure. I've gotten to know you really well, and this has been… really fun, honestly and genuinely." He braced himself, taking a small peak at Yang; she sat upright, hands tucked in at her lap attentively. She gave him a nod encouragingly, urging him onward. He nodded, lowering his head a little.

"The thing is… I have no idea, why this stuff happens. It's abrupt, and it's weird, but the last month I've felt… different? It's the only word I can think of to describe what's been going on in my head, and I really don't want to make you think any less of me because of it, but… but I think we should stop. I love you, you've been a phenomenal girlfriend, yet I don't know if it's right. I guess this is me saying… that I think we need to break up."

Sun let out a breath he had been holding with a whoosh; funny how he had been fighting to get all that air in only half a minute ago. He hadn't met her eyes yet, not wanting to see her reaction. "I really hope you don't get too angry at me; it has nothing to do with you, you're been great all through this relationship. I hope this information doesn't ruin what you were planning on telling me."

He waited for a response, but got none. "Are you sti- AUGH!" Yang had silently gotten up and was now standing right next to his chair. The blond fell out of his seat, hands raised over his head. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't want to get you angry, just go easy on me, I didn't want to ruin anything by staying in something that I didn't feel right about!"

"Relax, Wukong," Yang replied, prodding him gently with a booted foot. "I'm not mad. That actually makes my job a lot easier."

"Oh, the job of killing me, yes, that job. What kind of positive job involves sneaking up on me like that?" Sun still didn't move his hands. The car mechanic was prone to teasing him like this, and he had mastered her tricks early on in the game. So it was certainly a surprised when he felt a familiar butt rest itself gently on his stomach.

"Sun," Yang's voice said behind his hands, "really, I don't screw around with this stuff; it meant a lot what you had to say. I'm glad you were honest – a little proud actually, considering how far you've come since we first met – and to put it mildly, I was going to say the same thing."

This got the boy to move his hands – slowly, though, the still had a bit of his guard up. "You also wanted to break up?"

She shrugged from her position on his stomach. "I didn't want to break up, I wouldn't phrase it that way. More like I felt we were better off apart as a couple. You're a great guy; it's just felt different lately, you know? Like we need a different change of pace, and not being a couple felt like the best way to do that."

"Huh." She put it better than he did; still, he was going to miss her. "Okay."

"Yeah."

Neither one spoke. Sun looked around his apartment for a minute; he was actually really surprised he didn't hit his head on the coffee table on his fall down. Yang still sat on top him, her legs still perched at his sides as she rose up a little bit with each of his breaths.

She turned to look at him now. "So, where do we go from here?"

"First off, we go sit on the couch. Not on the Sun."

"Oh! Right, the Sun's too hot to sit on," she said, flashing him her usual "laugh at my puns God damn it" smile as she got off him and walked around the table.

He smiled back. "Okay, well, thank you?"

She gave him a small smile, shoving him playfully. "You're welcome. But seriously," she plopped down on his couch, "with us not wanting to go out, any ideas on what we do now? I mean I didn't pick on on any hostility from anyone us, so do you wanna still stay in contact?"

"Of course! I mean it might be a weird adjustment from "relationship" to "friendship", you know?"

Yang nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna miss that, but all we'd be missing out on would be consistent sex and affection, right?" Yang's eyes widened. "Holy crap, that's right, we can't do that anymore! Shit, can I take my answer back, I'm gonna miss being your –"

"Anyways," Sun cut in, avoiding a blush, "yea, that was fun, that was great, but I really don't think that keeping that going would do our friendship well; we both need to move on, not blur any lines, just… be friends."

Yang nodded, almost reluctantly. "Okay, okay… you're right, no frick-frack. Also, I've got some shirts of yours back at my place – I can bring them over in a couple days just so I'm not tempted to dwell too much on them, you know? Break off attachment of that kind and what have you."

Sun smiled. "I've wanted to wear those again for a while, so it'll be great to have them back. Honestly, did you _try_ to steal my favorite shirts on purpose?"

"Those were your favorites?! Aww, that's sweet, even that monkey one?"

"Especially that one. I flipped when you showed up one night wearing it, remember"

They both laughed at the memory; Sun had nearly flipped out, and it ended up being a while goose chase as he tried to tackle her down and get her to return the shirt to him. "Fine, you'll get those back. I don't think anyone was ever that desperate to get my shirt off, though."

"I dunno, remember Neptune on New Year's Eve?"

Yang's eyes widened. "Shit, that kid? Do you still hang out with that guy, I thought he moved or something?"

"Naw, he's actually just been pretty busy, got a job working at CellularHut, got promoted to assistant manager. Trust me, I think he's stopped being a perv and finally matured up. Still quite the womanizer though, I doubt he's retiring those moves any time soon."

Yang tossed her hair, eyes rolled at the thought of their blue haired friend. "Yeah, well, I'm still not convinced. Anyways, I'm going to go ahead and just say that I'll stay single for a month or two, just to get used to that. I mean I know you don't seem like a stalker, jealous ex-boyfriend type, I just don't want to use anyone to replace someone like you. Plus, it is weird for an ex to quickly pick up someone else so soon after a break up; I'd hate it if you did it to me, anyways."

Sun waved a hand. "Don't worry about it, I'm not a complete douche bag, I'll keep out of the dating scene as well. At least for a good while, you know, so we're both comfortable with the adjustement."

"Of course." Yang leaned back in her seat, taking a deep breath.

Neither one spoke. The silence wasn't exactly comforting, but there wasn't much a trace of awkwardness to it. Sun leaned back in his seat beside his "ex" and looked her over. He was going to have to get used to looking at her like he did everyone else. He was actually really surprised at her reaction to his wish to split, and even more surprised she had wanted to as well. As much as he knew dwelling and thinking about the end of the relationship wasn't good, he couldn't really help it; it was one of the smoothest break ups he'd ever had, and he was still processing that something like this was capable of happening.

Yang caught him looking at her, a grin breaking out over her face. "What?"

He shook his head. "Just thinking."

"About this?"

"Yeah, about that."

She patted his knee. "Let's not reference this too much, okay? It's not such a huge deal, you know?"

He nodded back, grateful for this beautiful woman in his life. "We're friends now; I mean we're exes, technically, but that isn't how I want to label you in my mind or to people."

"Same." Her hand extended, reaching out towards him. "Friends?"

He looked down at it; then nodded and gave it a grip and a shake. "Friends."

She smiled gratefully back, pumping his hand twice before letting go. "Wanna do anything? It is Friday, after all."

Sun thought for a minute. He hadn't thought he was too hungry, but that was likely his anxiety pushing his hunger in favor of dread. Now that he had nothing to worry about, the familiar knaw scraped at the edge of his stomach. "You know, I haven't had dinner yet; I was going to head out and get some food, would you care to join me?"

She leered at him. "Okay, but I don't kiss on the first date."

Sun got up from his seat on the couch. "Don't dates entail that I'd pay for whatever you want? Plus" here he offered his hand to her, "this isn't our first date; think of it more as one of many nights on the town; we've got a lot of ground to cover if we're gonna get to know each other."

With another sarcastic toss of her hair, Yang took his hand and pulled herself up. "So what are you hungry for? I'd go to Port's, but Ruby's off shift and I only would have wanted to go there to harass Ruby on her first day."

Sun perked up a bit at the mention of Yang's half-sister; the little red head had always been fond of Sun, and he had tried to be a good mentor to her. "How is Ruby doing anyways? And isn't it weird to start a job on a Friday?"

"I know, right? Right now she's just working Friday's and weekends, so that way it fits in with her schedule at Northbrooks. Port knows us really well, so she got to start her training today, you know, to get used to customers and stuff."

"That's good. It's her first job, so I hope she wasn't too nervous."

"She was a little, she gave me a call around 10 almost wanting to back out, but it turned out better than she expected. When I came home from work she mentioned making a friend right off the bat and from that point on she was a lot more at ease with everyone."

"Nice. I'll have to stop by tomorrow, buy a coffee, maybe make a complicated order."

"I think she'd like that. You can tell her everything worked out and give her a complex order before some impatient hipster beats us to it." The young friends had left his condominium behind, already clanking down the stairs to Bumble Bee. Sun snorted in discussed at Yang's comment.

"Those damn hipsters, with their scarves in summer and music no one's ever heard of. Full of pretentious clothing lines and vegan diets, I'm surprised no one's filed a complaint about them ruining good stuff in this city."

"Oh, I doubt they'll discover Port's for about a week, we can still go there. But on the subject of music no one's ever heard of, how's that music group of yours coming along?"

"Watch it Xiao Long," he said, the threat his tone carried more friendly than abrasive. "No one insults A Ka-Hella and gets away unscathed."

"Honestly though," Yang countered as she tossed the spare helmet to Sun, "fusing K Pop and A Capella seems a bit extravagant, don't you think? After all, how many people would go out of their way for something _that_ different? And change your name for God's sakes; it's trying too hard to sell your genre."

"It's only temporary, okay? And more important that that…"

The two went back and forth for ages, even over the roar of Yang revving her motorcycle or the wind rushing past the two as they sped towards the downtown district, lights streaming by as the night opened up for a pair of friends setting out a different rhythm for the first time in a good while.


	4. The State of the Fic

Hello There. thehemingwaydilemma here.

Many of you followers have noticed I have not posted here in a long, long time. I want to apologize. Workloads at college and personal issues have prevented me from writing chapter 4, and writing much else from my other work. If you got my update on FlipFlop, you'll know I'm taking a brief writing break until I can pull some stuff from the woodwork and actually, you know, write.

That being said, while I am working very hard on Flip Flop, Audiophiles of Remnant is going to be on Hiatus indefinitely. As horrible as that sounds, with me not writing for God knows how long, it is not abandoned - heck, I have a hella awesome direction for this story filled with character development, fluff, intense band performances, smut of varying degrees, and my trademark rollercoaster of drama. In fact, the story as a whole has more development and direction than Flip Flop, but is so meaty that I need to hold off on it until the time is right.

Please know I appreciate the few that found the first three chapters, and are willing to stick around for more. You will see more from this, just not in the near future. In the meantime, know I am at work developing my stories and improving my craft (Intro to Creative Writing has definitely been a blessing) and that the wait will be long but worth it.

Keep on Readin'/Writin'!

thd


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